


The Multi-Annual 'Make Up a Diplomatic Excuse So Your Father Doesn't Figure Out You're Courting a Foreign Prince' Meetings

by Just_Another_Day



Series: 'Treaty Negotiations' and Other Made Up Stories [2]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Auguste (Captive Prince) Lives, Auguste is the Best Wingman, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Sequel, Utter ridiculousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 09:05:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16082909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Another_Day/pseuds/Just_Another_Day
Summary: It takes the Kings of Akielos and Vere nearly a year to clue in to the fact that their sons always seem to leave their respective capitals at the same time.





	The Multi-Annual 'Make Up a Diplomatic Excuse So Your Father Doesn't Figure Out You're Courting a Foreign Prince' Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel of sorts to [The Annual 'Might as Well Just Bash Your Head Repeatedly Against a Stone Wall Because It's More Likely to Give an Inch' Talks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8789377). Basically, it's just an excuse for ridiculousness, and a (failed, really) attempt to fill a tumblr ask.

A messenger arrived, dispatched across the sea from King Aleron to King Theomedes. Damen knew even before the parchment was handed to his father that there was no way this could be a sign of good things to come. Especially with the usual treaty negotiations due to happen in less than a month.

Reading its contents made the King's face turn visibly purple for a long moment. Well, it was hardly the first time that the Veretians had said or done something that made Damen's father look that apoplectic. Damen found himself mentally planning out how to stall the King's ride northwards for long enough that Father would realise invading the capital of Vere in anger was not actually their best option. He contemplated sending a servant to fetch Nikandros to help. Not that Father was probably any more likely than Damen to actually listen to Nikandros's 'sage advice', admittedly. 

However, it didn't come to that in the end. Theomedes managed to get control of his temper, and even of the colour of his face, without anyone having to step in to calm him down. At that point, he turned to Damen and, as casually as Damen had ever heard him speak, noted that since the number thirteen was apparently considered disastrously unlucky in Vere, they would be skipping the thirteenth year of the annual treaty meetings just to be safe. 

Damen had never heard of such a bizarre tradition. Laurent and Auguste certainly hadn't mentioned anything about it.

Taken aback, Damen was entirely candid in saying, "I would have thought you would have been twice as likely to insist on the meeting if you thought it would make the Veretians uncomfortable. Besides, wasn't last year the thirteenth meeting?" Which meant that the superstition was extremely incorrect, since that had been by far the luckiest meeting between their countries so far, to Damen's mind. Not that he was going to mention that to his father, lest Theomedes ask him _why_ that might be.

"We don't count the year when we were at war with them, son."

They should, Damen thought, for that too had ended in negotiations. Not to mention that an actual treaty had come out of it, for once. Though that was probably why Father refused to count it. He didn't like to be reminded of the time that Damen had earned himself a reputation as a possible coward for opting to negotiate a withdrawal from the battlefield rather than riding out and potentially slaughtering his friend. That was, of course, why King Aleron made such a point of mentioning it every year. Let it never be said that the Kings of Vere and Akielos didn't take full advantage of any opportunity to renew their rivalry.

Damen tried his best to convince his father that the treaty negotiations were a necessity that couldn't just be skipped on a whim. That was a losing effort, though, when everyone involved knew that no actual agreement ever came out of these events. That was exactly why Damen, Auguste and Laurent had, between themselves, started hashing out a proper treaty between their countries. Though, if and when they actually presented it, Damen had a good idea just how well their fathers would react to some of the terms of the agreement. The marriage clause, for example.

Giving up his convincing his father as a pointless endeavour, Damen sent two letters back to Vere with the messenger. The one to Auguste basically read 'I'm willing to meet without our fathers if you are'. The one to Laurent was… slightly more involved than that, though that sentiment was still included in there. Somewhere.

Damen could hear the knowing laughter underlying the letter that arrived back from Auguste, acquiescing to having their own meeting this year, and mentioning that he wasn't willing to take no as an answer from his father. Damen was fairly certain he owed the man a very considerate gift by now. A horse probably wouldn't cover it. Perhaps Auguste was in need of an entire stable of his own. Laurent would probably enjoy that too.

The letter from Laurent, on the other hand, Damen was going to have to burn the moment he found an open flame just to make sure no one else could catch a glimpse of it. Assuming Damen didn't spontaneously combust himself first and save himself the trouble, that was. It made no mention of the upcoming meeting – presumably Laurent felt that Auguste's answer was sufficient in that regard – but every mention of things along the lines of what had happened the last time they'd seen each other, when they'd managed to each arrange to visit the Empress in Skarva at the same time for 'diplomatic' reasons. After the first day there, the Empress had laughingly declared them silly men in need of a vacation and a coupling fire, and left them to their own devices most of the time while Lady Vannes from Vere and Lady Jokaste from Akielos did the daily tasks of negotiating on their respective country's behalf, with Laurent and Damen only coming in at the end to study and approve the terms. Having the content of their days and nights back then now recalled in excruciatingly fine detail in Laurent's looping handwriting was not the way Damen had thought to start his day, especially in public.

He supposed he only had himself to blame. He'd been rather effusive (if less _explicit_ ) in his own letter, and it wasn't as if he didn't know how Laurent favoured one-upmanship.

When Damen had calmed himself enough to face his father (and hidden the letter rather than destroyed it, which he was fairly certain was a terrible idea, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do otherwise with it), Damen relayed the three Princes' decision. The younger generation was not afraid of superstition, Damen said. They could simply meet as ambassadors to their countries, if their Kings preferred not to attend. It might be good practice for the future anyway, Damen claimed, to deal with each other more directly.

"Fine," Theomedes said abruptly when he heard that. A little too abruptly, Damen thought. "If you insist, then I suppose you leave me no choice but to go. We'll all have yet another year of bragging Veretians and pointless yelling at each other. Why not."

It was too quick a concession, especially since that hadn't been what Damen had asked of his father at all. 

Damen wondered what the letter from Aleron had really contained, that his father was suddenly hesitant to meet up with the Veretians, and even more unwilling to have his son meet the Veretian Princes without him there as well. 

It was possible, Damen thought with great dread, that Aleron might have learned that Laurent and Damen had coincidentally been in Vask at the same time, or perhaps had uncovered that Laurent's ride to Acquitart months before that had actually been a sailing trip to Isthima while Damen had happened to be visiting the island. Though Damen could hardly credit the idea that his father's reaction to hearing – from the man he considered to be his greatest enemy, at that – that his son was purposely seeking out alone time with the younger Prince of Vere and sneaking around with him in various countries and provinces to do so would have been to calmly try to keep them separate. Damen would have instead expected Father to scream at Damen until he went hoarse. Perhaps this was only the calm before the storm. Or perhaps King Theomedes was beginning to mellow in his advancing age.

Damen doubted that last option.

More likely, Father might have decided that it must be just a phase. He might have thought that outright forbidding it could make Damen dig his heels in like a petulant adolescent where otherwise he would just enjoy himself for a time and then grow bored, the way he always had with anyone who had interested him before now. Unfortunately for Father, this was nothing at all like Damen's previous experiences. Laurent was different. Regardless of whether Father opposed it or not, there would be no 'getting it out of his system'.

When they all actually arrived in Delpha (still currently Delfeur, much to Aleron's self-satisfaction and Theomedes's boiling anger any time that came up), Damen felt like all eyes were on him and Laurent, as if to make sure they could never have a moment together unobserved. Damen was tempted to just tell them that they were shutting the stable door after the horse had already bolted. Perhaps Laurent was rubbing off on him; that seemed the sort of thing that he would casually announce to a packed room like this. But Damen was still quietly enjoying the quiet time before his father verbally unleashed his opinion about Damen's choice of partner, and he didn't want to unnecessarily bring his father's uncharacteristic self-restraint to a premature end.

Theomedes and Aleron, and quite a few others besides, seemed especially set on watching Damen and Laurent like hawks during the breaks from the meetings, as well as in the evening when they were for some reason forced to eat all together, as if to pretend the two kingdoms were currently unified to even that extent. Normally the Kings would find some measure of common ground through getting drunk together throughout and after the meal. That particular night, whatever solidarity they had seemed instead to come in the form of making sure Damen and Laurent couldn’t sneak away without twenty guards following them.

Laurent, of course, took that as a challenge. They covertly slipped away from the Kings' eyes during the entertainment (which was some horrific amalgam of Akielon- and Veretian-style performances, for neither King would allow the other's culture to take precedence). Then they less covertly made a run for it, eventually weaving through the concentric halls of the tower until they somehow ended up alone in their favourite haunt during these meetings; the training rings. It was bizarre to think back on the first time Laurent had dragged him here compared to now and realise that Laurent had actually liked him, in his own way, even all those years ago when he'd been pretending he would like to fight Damen to the death, given the chance. It was a wonder their fathers hadn't tried to step in between them before now. Obviously, they had been as blind to what was happening as Damen had been until just a year ago. 

It had been a long time coming, and it was still a work in progress, for they still couldn't be together anywhere near as often or as completely as they would have liked.

As if his thoughts had strayed in a similar direction, as soon as the doors swung closed, blocking the hallway from view, Laurent tugged Damen's face downwards and met his lips almost desperately, as if this was the culmination of years apart rather than just a few months. Damen felt the same way, to be honest. Each day of separation had seemed progressively harder, and keeping his hands off Laurent once they were finally back together had been nearly torturous.

There was no need to keep his hands to himself anymore. Not here. They could do anything and everything they liked, at least for the space of a few hours.

But as he trailed his hands down past Laurent's lower back, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of Laurent's tight trousers in a brief tease of what he really wanted to do, Damen abruptly realised, "Wait. I don't have any oil." 

Laurent looked at him disbelievingly for a long moment. Then the desperation temporarily gave way to laughter, which Damen surprisingly found he didn't mind. There were few things he enjoyed more than seeing Laurent's face lit up with amusement. "I can't believe you. What exactly did you think was going to happen tonight?" Laurent asked.

"You didn't come prepared either," Damen defended himself.

"I ensured Vere's attendance at this meeting despite my father's best efforts to call it off. I managed to get us away from our fathers' watchdogs just now. And I also made sure in advance that this room would be clear of people. Must I do absolutely everything?"

"Apparently," said Damen wryly. As if he hadn't been the one to suggest the meeting should go ahead regardless of their fathers in the first place, and been equally as instrumental in making sure the meeting actually took place from his end. Whatever Laurent might think, Akielos did not ride out on the Prince of Vere's say-so. Not yet, at least.

"We'll have to summon a servant and have him bring us something, then," Laurent said dismissively.

"And alert the guards as to our whereabouts, as well as letting the entire congregation know what we're doing in here?"

"Most of them seem to already have a fair idea, judging by how eager they were to call off the entire meeting just to stop us from having a reason to see each other." So Laurent thought that was the purpose of the sudden communication between their fathers and the decision to veto the meeting as well. "If you would prefer to feed them some pretty fiction, tell the servant we need oils because we intend to wrestle in the Akielon style. You never did get around to teaching me the 'proper' way, after all. Or rather, I'll tell him that. We both know that your lying skills are not up to the task."

Scandalised, Damen said, "We can't tell anyone that! Word will get back to my father, and he'll insist on watching our bout."

"Then I suppose we'll give him quite the unexpected show, won't we?"

Damen couldn’t believe that Laurent, who was so prone to blushing that Damen had discovered several dozen different ways to turn his skin attractively pink during their stay in Skarva, looked entirely unmoved by the suggestion, while Damen could feel his blood rushing to the surface.

Laurent, seeing Damen's reaction, laughed. "You were not so against the idea of public display in Vask."

"That was after a great many cups of _hakesh_."

"Mmm. Eight, wasn't it? I did tell you to slow down."

"You could have told me it wasn't just alcohol." 

"Why? I hardly minded the outcome. In fact, I could send for some more _hakesh_ , if that's what it takes to lower your inhibitions. We're not so far from the Vaskian border here."

"I have no need for an aphrodisiac, thank you." Which Laurent should already well know by now. "And regardless of what drinks we have consumed, we don't do these things in front of others in Akielos. Especially not with the King as our audience!"

"Then it is a good thing this is not Akielon territory, isn't it," Laurent said slyly. 

"My father would take those words as a declaration of war."

"I think your father would enthusiastically take my very existence as a declaration of war, at this stage."

"It will get better, in time," Damen assured him. "We won't have to sneak around forever."

"I wasn't concerned. I like the game of it," Laurent assured him. 

"Well I personally would like to see you more than a few times a year," Damen countered. He remembered telling Laurent that they would meet as often as possible. They'd done exactly that, but it hadn't turned out to be even a fraction of as often as Damen would actually prefer.

Laurent said, "For now, don't you think we should be making the most of the time we do have together?"

Damen wanted to say that they were; just seeing Laurent face to face and hearing his lilting Veretian accent slide over his native language and trip slightly over Akielon words when he tried to work them into the conversation was the best thing that had happened to Damen in months, since separating at the mountains along the Vaskian border. Laurent would probably scoff at him if he said such a thing aloud, though. So instead, Damen complied with Laurent's suggestion. It wasn't like it was a hardship to do so.

He ignored Laurent's jacket and shirt. There was too little time before they might be found, presumably, and Damen was far too slow at removing the still-unfamiliar Veretian clothing with its seemingly thousands of laces; Laurent had dressed in mostly Vaskian fashions when they'd been in Skarva and in a chiton while in Isthima, to Damen's absolute approval on both occasions. Even just restricting himself to unlacing Laurent's trouser, it still took Damen a few minutes to push away the material to reveal pale expanses of skin offset by the slight redness of Laurent's already mostly-hardened cock. When Damen shucked his own clothing in the space of a breath, revealing himself to Laurent's eyes in one motion, Damen was treated to the sight of that cock twitching slightly, a clear demonstration of Laurent's interest in the view.

Damen smiled. It must have been slightly smug, for Laurent rolled his eyes at him. 

Damen reached for Laurent, at first simply running his hands over Laurent's legs and occasionally applying enough pressure that it might almost have been called a massage. It didn't take long before Laurent's breaths were coming in short pants; a contrast to his huffing laughter of only minutes ago. When Damen started pressing a trail of kisses over the sensitive skin of Laurent's inner thighs, Laurent's entire body seemed to shudder against him, and Laurent said, "Enough. Just do it. I won't last if you keep that up."

That sounded more like an enticement than a warning to Damen. He dragged his lips from Laurent's skin long enough to say, "I told you, we don't have anything for that."

"I don't care," Laurent said.

"I do. But there are other things…"

Damen applied his mouth higher up. Laurent's assertion that Damen should fuck him turned to a different kind of insistence. Damen used his strength to lift the lower half of Laurent's body off the ground, half embrace and half positioning him to give Damen better access. Laurent's legs looped around so that his feet pressed against Damen's shoulder blades, while Laurent's own shoulders probably dug into the floor. If it was uncomfortable, Laurent said nothing about it, his only words and noises urging. Damen looked down the vista presented by Laurent's body for a moment, at his hard cock jutting upwards and the tensing muscles trembling slightly from the effort of holding his core up, before Damen's hands raised him a little higher into position.

If there was anyone in this section of the fortress, they must have heard Laurent's shout when Damen's tongue plunged straight inside him without preface, Laurent's impatience apparently being contagious. 

"Please," Laurent begged, his accent turning almost as guttural as when he spoke words in the tribal dialects of Vaskian. Damen was more than willing to oblige, kissing Laurent there almost as he would with his mouth, except that he soon applied his fingers as well, hands and mouth working in tandem. Laurent writhed against him. Damen thought it would have been a challenge for most men to keep from dropping him, he was moving so much. But Laurent would never be in this position with another man if Damen had his way, and Damen himself wasn't about to let him fall, so that was just fine by him.

One of Laurent's hands buried itself in Damen's hair, possibly as much to stabilise himself as because he thought Damen needed the encouragement. Though Damen didn't mind, as he found he liked the slight burn as Laurent tugged on his curls. And Laurent enjoyed the ensuing hum Damen let out in turn, it seemed. Vocally so.

There was a hard rap at the door while Laurent's shout was still echoing in the room. They stilled, and Laurent quieted.

"Laurent?" Auguste asked awkwardly. The idea that he'd recognised his brother's voice and probably followed it to its source was horrifying to Damen, and he was fairly certain that Auguste would never let him live this down. It would have to be two stables of horses, then.

"Yes, it's us. Get in here before anyone sees you and catches on where we are," Laurent called back.

A strangled sound escaped Damen's mouth at that order. He almost dropped Laurent after all in his scramble to grab for his clothing, but he did manage to keep enough control of himself to lower Laurent relatively carefully to the ground, thankfully.

Apparently, Auguste was not quite as uncaring of Damen's sensibilities as Laurent, for he said, still through the door, "My intention in coming to the border wasn't actually to dispatch Akielos's heir by giving him a heart attack, so I think not. I just came to tell you that Father himself has decided to come looking for you. With King Theomedes. I'm half convinced that those two working together for any reason is a sign of the end of times, so you might want to avoid them. They're already heading in this direction, by the way. Good luck." They could hear the shuffle of Auguste's steps as he disappeared, good deed to his brother and his friend apparently done.

Laurent and Damen looked at each other for a moment before they both burst into motion. Laurent might joke about it, but neither of them wanted to spend these few hours they had in each other's company dealing with their fathers' reactions to this. The thought of that was almost enough to entirely do away with the hardness of Damen's cock, but then he saw Laurent bend over and… no. That wasn't going anywhere. Running was going to be very uncomfortable. At least he knew Laurent would have to deal with the same thing. Equality in everything.

"There's a loft high up in the stables," Laurent said as he tugged on his pants and almost viciously pulled at the laces to tighten them. Damen flinched on his behalf. "There shouldn't be anyone there at this time of night, with none of the horses sick or foaling. I'm fairly certain no one would look there, of all places, for two princes late at night."

Damen privately suspected that 'near the horses' was probably the first place anyone who actually knew Laurent would go looking for him if he went 'missing', but he didn't get the impression that King Aleron knew his youngest son particularly well, so he didn't object. 

"Race you over the rooftops," Laurent suggested. "The first one to get to the stables gets to decide what the other has to do."

Damen sighed. "You're only saying that because you know you're more agile than me over uneven surfaces, and because you will cheat if it looks like I'm somehow going to win despite that."

"It's like you know me or something," Laurent said.

"I do," said Damen. "Well enough that I will agree to your bet."

"You think you can win?" Laurent asked.

"I think I won't mind if I lose," Damen replied.

Laurent's lips twitched and, true to form, he took off running for the window, hoisting himself through without waiting for Damen. 

When they arrived at the stables, the building was indeed deserted but for the animals who didn't pay much attention to the arrival of two Princes. And there were, Damen found, many lamps full of oil kept on the shelves near the doorway.

There were far worse places to spend a night, Damen decided, as he tugged on Laurent's hand and made for the stairway up to the loft.


End file.
